Inspector Rames

Chapter 1

"You're all right, aren't you?" A hint of seriousness crept into Sebastian's jovial tone.

"I am now. I would have appreciated a partner, though."

"He's a serial runner, and he knows my face. He doesn't know yours."

"The two of us don't make up the entire police force."

"Everyone else was busy. Besides, I couldn't let you sit around on your backside during the final hours of your holiday." There was a grin in his voice. "Merry Christmas, Amber."

***

I had to strap myself and my resisting suspect back into our seats when we approached the next station, then march him off the train and onto a different one that would take us to Socrico again. Half an hour later, we finally arrived back where we'd started.

Detective Inspector Sebastian Flynn was waiting on the platform for us, accompanied by two PRBs -- police robots. They stood on either side of him, black bulletproof exteriors gleaming beneath the station lights and metal fingers clenched around rifles. They had been designed harshly, all sharp edges and cold features, and they watched us with bright blue eyes like possessed creatures from hell.

Sebastian was an angel in comparison: tall, blond, blue-eyed, and wearing a winning smile that made his female conquests go weak at the knees. But there was enough kindness in his expression to cancel out any arrogance. I hadn't really been on that train alone. He'd been listening, monitoring, waiting -- and ready to do anything if I'd got into real trouble.

"Merry fucking Christmas," I said as I handed Nick Jones over.

"Thank you," Sebastian drawled. "A murderer. It's what I've always wanted." His gaze trailed over my red cheek. "I owe you one. Go home and get some sleep before you have to be back at the station."

The PRBs led Nick Jones away, and we followed them, branching apart when we hit the street. It had started to rain, and I hesitated under the glass overhang of the train station, wishing I had an umbrella. Or a hood.

Bracing myself, I stepped out and turned in the direction of my flat. The rain beat a rhythm against glass roofs and gurgled in the gutters. Someone clattered over the metal walkways above me, and above them, another train whooshed over the city.

Skyscrapers lined the road ahead, intimidating silhouettes in the dark. I glanced back at the train station. A shallow flight of steps led to the entrance, and a handful of travellers -- each alone -- were spilling down them. One was young and slim, blonde curls shining under the neon signs. She looked like the girl whose murder inquiry Sebastian was trying to close.

I'd seen the pictures of the body, and although there always had been pictures and there always would be pictures, my stomach tightened. I turned back.

And slammed into something.

Stumbling, I lost my balance and landed arse-first in a puddle. Grimy rainwater seeped through my jeans as I looked up at the person I'd collided with. The shadows hid their features, but they were tall, dressed in black from head to foot, and leaning closer.

"Put one hand on me," I said, "and I'll rearrange your face."

Except I could see his face now, and there was no violent intent in his eyes. Dark hair glinted in the lamplight, and stubble graced his strong jaw. He was holding duffle bags in his hands, and he paused in the act of passing one to the other. Amusement flickered in his gaze. "I was going to help you up."

"Oh. Thank you."

He extended his free hand, and I took it. Wet flesh met cold flesh, a miserable winter introduction. He pulled me up easily, but his expression hardened. "Are you all right?"